


solace

by yunmin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Legacy of the Force Series - Aaron Allston & Troy Denning & Karen Traviss
Genre: Current-Wedge/Iella, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Past-Luke/Mara, Past-Wedge/Luke, Platonic Cuddling, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 15:00:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13573017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunmin/pseuds/yunmin
Summary: Luke is having trouble sleeping. Wedge offers to help. (Set during Legacy of the Force: Fury.)





	solace

It’s the middle of the night. The base on Endor is quiet, still, as far as Luke can tell. He reaches out, reassuring himself that everyone who should be here is here, and he receives a wave of emotion back, sleeping Jedi attempting to bring their master some comfort.

Luke hasn’t been sleeping well. Not since Mara died. It’s silly. It wasn’t like they shared a bed every night of their marriage – they’d both spent too much time in separate places, doing separate things, for that to happen. And Luke had lived a life before he married Mara, a life when he spent most of the time sleeping alone, but now…

The bed feels empty. Even when he used to sleep alone, Mara was there, on the other end of their bond. If Luke wanted to reach out, he could feel her.

Now all he feels is nothingness.

Luke gives up on the idea of sleep, on just pacing back and forwards in his small quarters, in favour of pacing the corridors instead. He doesn’t expect anyone to be out there. He walks almost the length of the base before he does encounter another person.

It’s only Wedge. He looks tired – they all look tired, these days. He stops when he sees Luke, and seems to relax a little. “Hey,” he says, and Luke feels a little better in Wedge’s company.

“Hey,” he responds. “What are you doing up?”

Wedge shrugs his shoulders. “Errant Venture’s running a twelve hour differential to us. If I want to speak to Iella and Myri – well. I’ll endure a late night or two.”

Luke has always admired Wedge’s dedication to his family. When he’d come back from Adumar with Iella as his fiancee, no one had doubted that match for a second. He loved her, had done for years, and he loved his daughters with the sane fierceness. Luke remembers the siege of Borleias, that terrible time when they hadn’t known if Iella and the girls had made it off of Coruscant alive, and how close Wedge had been to breaking.

“What about you?” Wedge asks. “Can’t sleep?”

It’s Luke’s turn to shrug. “Not really.” Wedge’s eyes seem to bore into him, and demand more of a response. Luke struggles for a moment, wondering how much of his thoughts to entrust to Wedge. “Mara… she’s not—” All of it, he decides. “The bed’s too empty.”

It doesn’t feel any less silly, voicing it aloud. But Wedge’s nods, with quiet understanding.

“You miss her,” Wedge says. “That’s only natural, Luke.” Silence hangs between them, Luke grateful that Wedge doesn’t press any further, Wedge just content to let Luke have a moment. Then. “Look—” Wedge rubs his neck, an old awkward gesture that he’s never managed to get rid of. “You need your sleep. And if the bed being too empty is the problem, well, I can help with that.” Luke raises his eyebrows, wondering if Wedge is taking this where Luke thinks he is. “It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before. It’ll be like old times.”

Luke wonders just what old times Wedge means. There’s been plenty of platonic bed-sharing between them, sure, when the Rebellion was short on space, or if it was cold. But also plenty of times when they’d slept in the same bed – on Hoth, sharing body heat – when it had turned to something more, hands inside clothes and hot mouths pressed to every inch of skin they could reach.

“You’re a married man, Wedge,” Luke reminds him. “How would Iella take to you sharing a bed with someone else?”

Wedge laughs for a moment. A smile pulls across his face and for just a moment, Luke is twenty-one again, twenty-one and wondering if what he feels about the dark-haired pilot who stands in front of him is love. “My wife knows what it’s like to be grieving, Luke. I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t begrudge you this comfort.” Wedge sticks his hands in his pockets. “In fact, I think she’d encourage it. Tell me off if I didn’t try to help you.”

Luke looks at Wedge for a long moment. Wedge is sincere in his offer, kindness rolling off him. There are no ulterior motives, no worry about anyone’s disapproval, just a desire to do whatever he can to help his friend. “Okay,” Luke says. He wants to say something more, but everything else sticks in his throat, sounds too awkward to say aloud.

Wedge throws an arm around Luke’s shoulders; comfortable and companionable. “Come on Luke,” Wedge says. “Let’s go get some sleep.”

.

They’re both dressed for sleep, at least, there’s no awkward undressing to deal with. Wedge shucks off his flight jacket and his boots, and clambers effortlessly into Luke’s bed, pressing himself against the far wall.

Luke looks at him for a moment. Memories of Wedge in his bed in far more provocative positions are suddenly summoned up, and Luke shakes them away. He takes off the cloak he's wearing, and climbs into bed next to Wedge.

Wedge pulls the covers up over them, and its cosy. Luke still isn't sure if he’ll sleep, but he feels safe like this and well, that's a start.

“How'd you want to do this?” Wedge asks. “Back to back if you just want my body heat?” Wedge’s tone is jokey, and it helps a lot to put Luke at ease. “Or I’m happy to spoon, or just cuddle.” Wedge cocks his head to look at Luke. “Anything more than cuddling, that I will have to check with Iella.”

“Cuddling is just fine, Wedge.” Luke shakes his head, and then shuffles closer to his friend. Wedge moves his arm to accommodate Luke, and Luke rests his head on Wedge’s bicep, nose nuzzled in the front of Wedge’s old, worn t-shirt. Wedge lifts his hand to curl around the back of Luke's head, fingers tangling in his hair, and drapes his other arm across Luke’s side.

Luke can feel – physically feel, not just sense through the Force – Wedge’s breathing. It turns slow as Wedge settles. Luke feels himself being soothed by it, by Wedge, who knows more than perhaps anyone else left in the Galaxy that Luke is just a fallible man, capable of mistakes, a man who never has all the answers. Wedge wants nothing from him.

“Stop thinking so hard,” Wedge mumbles. “Go to sleep, Luke.” Something like a kiss is pressed to Luke's hair, across his temple. Wedge cuddles Luke tighter.

Luke relaxes. He lets himself just concentrate on Wedge, on the warmth, on the softness of Wedge’s shirt and the sheets, and finally, finally.

He sleeps.


End file.
